"Give her up!" exclaimed Willie in amazement. "Why?" "Why! because I could not think of standing in the way of her good fortune." "Oh, Frank! oh, Blazes," said Willie sadly, "has money told on you so fearfully already? Do you think that _she_ would give _you_ up for the sake of Auberly's dross?" "I believe not, lad; but--but--well--never mind, we won't be troubled with the question now. But, mother, you don't seem to think much of my good fortune." "I do think much of it, Frank; it has been sent to you by the Lord, and therefore is to be received with thanksgiving. But sudden good fortune of this kind is very dangerous. It makes me anxious as well as glad." At that moment there came a loud knocking at the door, which startled Mrs Willders, and caused Willie to leap up and rush to open it. Frank rose and put on his cap with the quiet promptitude of a man accustomed to alarms. "That's a fire, mother; the kind of knock is quite familiar to me now. Don't be alarmed; we hear that kind of thing about two or three times a day at the station; they knew I was here, and have sent a messenger." "A fire!" cried Willie, running into the room in great excitement. "Tut, lad," said Frank, with a smile, as he nodded to his mother and left the room, "you'd never do for a fireman, you're too excitable. Where's the messenger?--ah, here you are. Well, where is it?" "Tooley Street," exclaimed a man, whose condition showed that he had run all the way. Frank started, and looked very grave as he said hurriedly to his brother-- "Good-night, lad. I won't likely be able to get out to-morrow to talk over this matter of the fortune. Fires are usually bad in that neighbourhood. Look well after mother. Good-night." In another moment he was gone. And well might Frank look grave, for when a fireman is called to a fire in Tooley Street, or any part of the docks, he knows that he is about to enter into the thickest of the Great Fight. To ordinary fires he goes light-heartedly--as a bold trooper gallops to a skirmish, but to a fire in the neighbourhood of the docks he goes with something of the feeling which must fill the breast of every brave soldier on the eve of a great battle. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE FIRE IN TOOLEY STREET. One of those great calamities which visit us once or twice, it may be, in a century, descended upon London on Saturday, the 22nd of June, 1861. It was the sudden, and for the time, overwhelming, attack of an old and unconquerable enemy, who found us, as usual, inadequately prepared to meet him.